The Girl-Who-Lived
by Sabrina Potter-Black
Summary: Harry Potter is a very strange person. She is not like anyone else... Hopefully, someone will understand her. Set during first year. Transgender Harry! No pairings as of yet.
1. Chapter 1

**I'm not sure if I like the name... Leave reviews on what you would like it to be?**

Harry always knew she was different from all the other people at Hogwarts. Everyone was happy and knew who they were, but... Harry felt as if she was confused. Holding the shaking quill in her hands, she tried to sign her name. Harry James Potter... That didn't sound quite right to her. The name sounded to boy-ish. The shuddered, almost scratching the paper with the nearly dripping ink. Her essay was almost finished, she just had to sign her name. That's all...

"Harry, mate!" she could tell that Ron had approached her. Harry had no idea what he wanted, but she didn't want to talk to him right at this minute, "Are you going to dinner?"

If she really strained her ears, she could hear his stomach rumbling. "Nah, I'm fine. Just need to complete a few essays." Which was a half lie; Essay, not multiple. Harry just wanted some time to herself to think. She had been doing a lot of thinking lately.

"You sure? We're having treacle tart." Ron sounded really hungry, and it seemed like he was going to wait until she decided to come to the Great Hall. She could hear him shift his weight from his left foot to his right.

"I- I just need to finish this. You go down with Hermione." She hated to turn down an offer for food, but she wasn't all that hungry...

"Alright, mate. Just eat tomorrow, okay? You can't be skipping meals like this." she had never heard Ronald talk like that before, Harry wasn't sure if she liked it.

As he left, she could hear his footsteps walk down the stairs to the boys' dormitory. The jet-black haired child could imagine him looking down dejectedly and sighing a lot. His flaming red hair stuck up in their messy ways.

Thinking about Ron's hair, she touched her own. Her locks were too short for her liking, but that was how Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia liked it that way. She could not disappoint them anymore than she already had.

Finally, she just scribbled a signature at the bottom of her Charms essay to be done with it. No sense worrying about how she did not like her name, at least, now was not the time. Taking out her magic wand, she said an incantation, "Exscribo..." The two feet of tan parchment copied into a very neat roll next to the original one.

"Wicked." she said under her breath. Even though Harry had been a part of the magical world for a few months, magic still seemed to amaze her... Just like that, a whole homework assignment was duplicated! Amazing...

**Well, that was chapter one! I hope you guys like this!**

**Reviews makes longer chapters...**

**~Sabrina,**


	2. Chapter 2

Harry stood in front of the mirror, holding up a tailored dress she had made herself. The dark blue dress was cut to only go as low as the knees. At the shoulder parts were little frills that she added last moment in excitement. Or made the outfit look nice... Harry waved her wand and sparkles appeared on her work of art. It was perfect for any little occasion. Now, if only she could wear it...

Sighting, she brushed some of the wrinkles down, and thought: _I guess I'll have to give this to Hermione. _Harry wished she could be herself, but people wouldn't let her. She gave a soft sniff and tried not to think about it. _Stop being girly,_ she told herself. _Aunt Petunia is already mad at me. _Harry could still hear the woman's voice ringing through the air. "How dare you! I've feed you, clothed you, and given you a roof over your freakish head. And now you're even more of an unnatural thing!" She tried not to think about it. "Harry! You're a boy. Not a girl. Shut up and go back in your cupboard." Yet the memory kept on popping up.

"I better hide this," Harry mumbled, looking down at the tiled bathroom floor.

As she folded the dark blue dress, Harry kept on thinking about the dreaded day.

_Harry had walked home from school, she had told herself that she would tell her aunt about how she felt. Inside. Harry felt like she was in the wrong body. It didn't feel right. She wanted to be a... girl. Her ripped up sneakers hit the hot pavement as she walked faster. Surely Auntie Pet would understand. Besides, Harry already referred to herself in the pronouns she liked. (In her head. Outside, she pretended to be a boy. It was only right. Everyone else would accept the change when she would be older. Until then, she would let her family know about the change.) The sun's rays hit her back, but she didn't mind. Everything was going to be alright._

The current Harry sniffed at the memory. How wrong she was. The sparkly outfit felt like silk in her hands as she pressed down the wrinkles. Before she was done Harry heard one of the boys coming back from dinner.

The person was probably Neville. The poor boy didn't really talk to the others, he mostly kept to himself. At least, that's what Harry saw the few times she was around the boys.

Quickly, she ran out of the bathroom. Her trunk was still opened from when she lifted the top earlier to get sewing supplies amd grab the dress. Throwing the work of art in there, she reached out a hand and slammed the lid shut.

Just as she did that, Neville opened the door. The boy peaked his head out, "Ya in here, Harry?"

She wasn't sure whether to respond or not, "Yeah, I'm here, Nev."

The boy stepped into the room, his legs shaking underneath his robes. His brown hair was slicked back with some sort of magic spell or gel. One stubborn strand of hair was sticking up, defying whatever was holding the rest of the locks down. His brown eyes looked scared. Neville's shaking hands reached unto his black robes and pulled out a little bundle. "You weren't at dinner, so..." be blushed.

Harry walked towards the first year and took the napkin wrapped food. "Thanks."

"Well, I'm off to bed. See ya tommorow, Har?" He was still shaking slightly.

"Night,"

END OF CHAPTER

Okay! I hope this chapter was a little bit longer! More reviews mean more character interactions! Also, if anyone has any questions or wants to suggest a better title, that would be greatly appreciated.

~Sabrina


	3. Chapter 3

Harry opened her eyes and yawned. She was elegant as the princesses in the movies, at least, she tried to be. The curtains around her bed were still closed, no light in her small area. It was oddly comforting, the pitch-blackness engulfing her; it sorta reminded her of her cupboard at the Dursley's. Harry suddenly didn't like the enclosed, dark space anymore.

She reached a hand over and pulled the curtains aside. The feel of the cloth was just a little rougher than her dress' material. It was nice, except for the fact that they were red and gold. Blue or green would have suited her better. _Uhg, I wish I had taken The Sorting Hat up on his offer. I hate these colours. _

Harry kicked off the fluffy, and heavy blankets. Her long, lanky legs were covered by a long, light blue pair of flannel pants. There were a few small holes here and there, but they were wonderful. Especially since she bought them herself.

Her stomach started to rumble and Harry wished she would have eaten last night. ..._Thank Merlin for Neville, _she thought as she went to get the food the clumsy boy had gotten her.

**The Girl-Who-Lived**

She sat at breakfast, picking at her yellow scrambled eggs. Harry tried to block out the noise the rest of the Gryffindor table was making. It was giving her a headache. Harry didn't want to know if Percy was gay or not, or if Fred had been caught sneaking off with a Chaser. She just wanted peace.

"Harry?" Hermione poked her in the shoulder.

"What, 'Mione?" she said to her friend. Setting down her fork on the golden plates, she decided she didn't want to eat for a few minutes.

"Sh," the bushy haired girl muttered, "Don't look now, but Quirrell is staring in your direction."

Harry wasn't sure what to do with the new information. "Thanks. Oh," she took a small breath and let it out, "I got a gift for you. Meet me in the Common Room after History of Magic." She was internally flinched, that sounded creepy.

"Okay," Harry was one hundred percent sure Hermione was biting her bottom lip.

No one talked to Harry for a couple of minutes. Leaving the girl to decide if she actually wanted some more food. It was a long few minutes, before the final decision made. She was going to grab a snack. Just in case. Harry reached out her left hand to grab a napkin. When she grasped the paper, she shrieked. A small snake was sitting on top of the pile of napkins. Its shiny, slimy skin was gleaming in the Great Hall's light.

Harry didn't really notice that the majority of the students and staff were looking at her; she was too busy staring at the scary, red snake.

Ron grabbed her shoulder tightly, "What in the name of bloody hell is wrong, mate? You screamed a bit like a girl, you did." His voice was worried, then had this joking tone.

Harry blushed, her cheeks turning a pretty pink. "Look," she whispered, her right hand pointing at the creature. "It's a snake." Ron's hand gripped on her shoulder too tight. A bruise was going to form

"What's wrong?" The Scottish accented professor called out. Her seating arrangement on the staff table was next to Dumbledore. Giving her even more power than she had alone.

"Oh," one of the Weasley twins called out, "Nothing, Professor! Harry was just surprised by a joke!"

Suddenly, Harry felt stupid.

**The Girl-Who-Lived **

The trio got to Snape's class early so they could sit together. Hermione led them to the row in the very back of the classroom. The black paint that had previously been on the desks was chipped off. Words that were written with nails were barely readable. She could heat the dripping of a pipe in the corner.

After she slung the strap to her bag on the stool, she sat down. Harry always did that, so someone couldn't steal her bag.

Ron and Hermione sat on either side of her. Hermione was pulling out quills and pieces of parchment for them to take notes; Ron set up all their cauldrons and potion supplies. Harry had to do a bit of quiet spellwork. Taking her wand out of her robes, she muttered, "Ignis Probat." So now their desks wouldn't catch on fire. It wasn't really a needed for Harry to do that, but after Neville set his desk aflame... well, she didn't feel like taking chances.

"Scutum Poculum." Now, with those little flashes of purple light, their potions were protected. Malfoy and his cronies couldn't try anything now...

She went through her brain, trying to see if anymore spells would help.

It was dreadfully cold, but a heating charm was likely to make another fire happen, or a potion explode. She sighed, it was going to be a long and freezing lesson.

**The Girl-Who-Lived**

Hey! Thank you, readers, for your reviews!

Lily Potter-chan: Actually that would have been a good way to start off... Well, hopefully, this chapter pleases you. More things will happen after this lesson.

So... I got a request. If you would please go to my profile, there is a poll. I need people to vote!

~Sabrina


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4, The Girl-Who-Lived

She knew that Professor Snape was approaching the classroom once Lavender Brown rushed in. Brown was always running in a few seconds before the greasy haired man walked in. Harry was still surprised that the girl didn't get a detention every class. She shuddered, detentions were the worst. She remembered when Filch assigned her one after she was caught fifteen minutes after curfew. Harry had gotten lost... The stone walls were confusing.

Lavender scurried to the only seat left. The place in front of Snape's desk. Harry heard some dramatic music in her head. It took all the self restraint she had not to giggle. However, while trying not to laugh, she felt a pang of sympathy. The man always picked on the person near him. She watched as Lav fidgeted in her seat. The poor girl...

Harry let out a low sigh and shuffled in her own seat. Getting picked on my adults was no fun. She had a lot of experience with that... because of her no good relatives. _They're not no good,_ the little voice in Harry's head told her. _They were trying to make you a good person. You failed. You're bad, disgusting, unnatural, and everything freakish. Even in your own freak world, no one is like you._ That voice always brought her down, ruining her day. She shivered in the cold of the classroom. It was too dark.

"Settle down, class, settle down..." he drawled as he walked into the freezing room. Snape's black cape billowed behind him.

Harry was a bit confused. With one eyebrow up and green eyes wide. Why did the git say that? No none was talking. Not even the chattiest girls were making any sound.

"Now," his oily voice was like his hair: unpleasant. "Open your books to page 8. We shall be working with the minor appearance changes." there was small gasps heard all around the room. Kids in the right corner had their mouths agape. Harry wanted to see how much could be changed, and for how long. She wished they would keep their stupid pie holes shut.

"Relax," the professor said, "things like hair length and colour is changed... only if you brew it correctly." he gave a grim smile. The first time she had seen Snape smile, not matter how ugly the grin was. "brewed incorrectly: your skin, and hair could burn off. So pay attention." his black eyes looked around the room, trying to see those who were weak.

Harry straightened her back and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. She better listen up.

"Open your books!" Snape barked.

She opened her bag, and pulled out a thick book. Actually, this class was going to be fun. Cold, but fun. Turning to the correct page she bookmarked it. It'd be good for later.

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><p>Harry raced up to her dorm, going to get the dress for Hermione. Her feet hit the creaky steps as she tried to get there. She had her short black hair almost flying behind her. Harry liked that feeling. The torches lit her way as she climbed. The scarlet walls around her had shiny golden plaques on them. The boys who belonged to the first through seventh year dorms get their names engraved.<p>

_Oops,_ she thought, _wrong dorms._ Harry had made it all the way to the fourth year part. She turned around and went to the right place.

Opening the door, she went for her bed in the corner. The trunk was sitting right in front of her fourposter bed. Harry had chosen it for the two dark green strips down the side. The silver lock had also called out to her. Hagrid was surprised by her choice, but didn't say anything.

Harry flipped up the lid and grabbed the shimmery material. It was so soft, and she wanted to wear it just once. _No,_ the voice told her. _You can't._

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><p>Harry watched as Hermione looked at the dress and then back to her face. She hoped Hermione liked it...<p>

"I love it, Har! But- but why did you make it for me?" the look on the girl's face was confused and Harry didn't know why her best friend was confuzzled. "I mean, we've only been friends for a month... but still, thanks."

Hermione hugged her, while holding the dress. Oh, how Harry wanted to wear it.

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><p>Lily Potter-chan: Yeah, she looks masculine. That will be changed soon!<p>

AlcoholicIntrovert: Thank you for the review! It really made my day! Oh yes, magic will be able to help. Also, the dorms things will be added. I just have to get this chapter out of the way! Thanks for the compliments, I really try to at leas make my writing readable. I'll try and include the suggestions, too. Sorry for such a short chapter. I sorta needed to get something across, plus I have a bunch of stupid assignments to finish...

Thank you all for reading my story! Oh, how about I update twice a week? That would give me time to write longer chapters and get my homework done. Also, if anyone has any questions, comments, or criticism, leave it in a review!

~Sabrina,


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Harry sat on the Common Room couch, doing her homework. It was probably unfair to the rest of the Gryffindor students. Her Charms homework and research was covering the scarlet cushion to her left. The Astronomy essay on the soft cushion to her right. Lots of old books she had taken from the library were down by her feet. Thank goodness for that. The tomes were covering Harry's shoes the ones she had bought at Jenson's Magical Thrift Store while Hagrid was getting a drink.

Harry could hear some of the other students muttering about how she had taken the only spots in front of the fire. Others were whispering about, 'The poor dear. Just wait until he gets to the 5th year. The whole castle will be taken over by then.' Or something along the lines of that. The first year had some bones to pick with all of these people. There was still some spots in front of the blazing hot flame. For instance, the two footrests that some of her peers use as chairs. To the other people: she was only taking over one place, also that was for two assignments. If Harry still did her homework in the Common Room... Well, only the room would be gone. One more thing, she was not a poor dear, she was a stressed student.

There was a huge difference.

Giving a small huff, she turned to page 90 of her 'Standard Book of Spells' for Charms. Her fingers slid across the soft, tan parchment. Harry was supposed to be writing down about what the spell was to make a feather dance. (The answer was Tripudio.) The smallest of things kept on distracting her. Like: the crackling of the orange fire, the smell of burning wood... the other students weren't helping either.

She grabbed one of the stray quills and dipped it in a random bottle of ink. Scribbling the necessary words on the paper, she groaned. The ink was a bright shade of green.

Great.

"Ack!" Harry shouted, throwing the feather behind her. It probably hit someone. She didn't care. A lot of heads snapped in her direction.

"What's the matter, Potter?" Cormac McLaggen sneered, "You see another snake?" the second year elbowed one of the students next to him. That stupid, stupid person. He was all the way across the freaking room. Harry couldn't do anything to strangle him. She imagined her arms around his neck, sucking the life out of him. _Wait, that's not right,_ she thought. The image of him flailing around was appeasing, but those weren't her thoughts...

"No..." Harry adjusted her wire frame glasses and glared in the boy's direction. "Someone switched my ink." she breathed through her nose. Her whole essay was ruined.

"Green ink?" someone behind her commented. The voice sounded feminine.

Harry looked down at her paper and scowled, "Yes." the person sounded like one of those 'poor dear' people.

"McLaggen!" the person behind Harry screamed, her voice attracting more attention than the first year had gotten.

The blond haired boy sat up a little straighter and starting snickering. "Yes, Head Girl?" he tugged his gold and red tie. "Do you need anything? A shoulder rub? A kiss, perhaps?" Cormac smirked over in Harry's direction. She almost felt disgusted, then she realized that he was talking to the... _head girl._

Shuffling was heard from behind the couch, perhaps the girl was getting up. Harry was not sure. She was looking straight at McLaggen. Her green eyes trying to burrow into his very soul. He didn't react. The attention from his cold blue eyes were trained behind her.

"So... are you giving me the kiss?" he pointed a finger to his cheek.

"You're twelve." The Head Girl had this air of distaste. "I'm seventeen... Off point, Mr. McLaggen. I saw you had green ink earlier."

"So what?"

The robed girl walked over to Harry and grabbed the ink bottle that was to Harry's left. The girl's gold nail polish gleamed in the firelight. "Is this yours?"

Cormac's eyes went wide and he stuttered, "N-no, my love. Why would you think that?"

"Like I said, you had it earlier. It was in your hand." The Head girl moved out of Harry's way, now approaching the brat. Her hand was clutched around the small, green glass bottle. Her heels clicked against the rug.

Harry remembered that someone had shuffled in front of her earlier, while she was noting the difference between Pluto and Mercury. Ugh, with five ink bottles she was bound not to notice.

"Don't make me get McGonagall." The girl was now in front of the boy, in his face. Her voice had an air of authority.

Cormac confessed.

* * *

><p>She was packing up her homework. Two neatly written essays were in her hand. The rest of the books and stray bits of paper in her old bag. The couch was free again, and several students rushed to sit on it. <em>Wow...<em> Harry rolled her eyes. She adjusted her black robes to cover her shoes.

Harry was trekking up the stairs, trying to carry the books. It hurt. Her muscles were straining as the weight got to her. Her knees started to buckle.

"Harry!" Ron called out, rushing down the steps.

Never was the girl more thankful to see her best friend, "Ron!" she called out. The flaming red hair was a blessing from God.

"You need any help, mate?" Ron was by her side, taking the straps off her shoulder. The weight was slowly leaving... she could stand up. Her legs and shoulder still hurt like hell, but... _hallelujah._

It from then on Harry swore to never do her homework in the Common Room.

* * *

><p>Harry was rummaging through her trunk, looking for anything else to do. It was a Saturday and dinner wasn't for another two hours. Her hands went through the clothing and stray pieces of paper. "Ouch," she muttered as her hand came into contact with a needle. <em>I should really sort everything. <em>Taking out the needle, she went to find the thread and spool. She also took out grey shirt of Dudley's and some of Vernon's socks. The Dursley's would be disgusted that she was going to make a dress out of _their_ clothing. However, she did not care any longer. This was going to be hers and no one would stop her. _If only I had that attitude with the blue dress. _She sighed. Hopefully 'Mione will make that work.

She threw the materials onto her bed and prayed that the shiny grey needle wouldn't get lost.

Harry was oblivious to everything, in fact she was excited. She wouldn't have to give this work to someone else. It would be _hers. _Aunt Petunia had no say in this. Harry could wear this in Dudley's second bedroom when she was going to be locked up all summer. (_No joke, _she found herself laughing inside, _Uncle Vernon said he lock me up.) _In fact! She'd make herself a whole wardrobe out of the over sized shirts and socks... complete with black head bands, black bracelets, black necklaces, and black hats. (Most of Vernon's socks were black. Some were an ugly shade of grey, though.) Her cousin's shirts would be excellent for blouses and dresses. Harry closed her eyes and gave a giggle.

She climbed onto the bed rapidly banging her knees on the wood. Using her foot, she kicked the lid.

Finding the needle, which was uncomfortably close to her foot, she looked around. Harry had forgotten the green scissors and the blue measuring tape...

Groaning loudly, she scampered back down to the foot of her bed. "Harry, what's going on in there?" Dean stepped out of the bathroom, a light blue tooth brush in his hand. "What." the toothbrush dropped to the carpeted floor and he quickly rushed back into the tiled place.

Harry closed her eyes, expecting for there to be a bad reaction.

"Harry, are you sewing?" the girl could hear his voice from inside the bathroom. The door was still, she could see the light from inside shining down on Seamus' bed.

"Perhaps," she called back.

There was a pause, "...cool."

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><p>geetac: Yes, very sad... Though, should I make it harder? *hears thunder in the background* Mwahahaha...<p>

lilyflower101: She's going to make herself a whole new wardrobe... Hehehe!

AlcoholicIntrovert: You managed to brighten my day again with this review! I'm not sure what I am going to do with "the whole stairs thing." I was going to get into that a little bit... however, I lost half my chapter in the writing process so I decided to do this instead. Hagrid and Dumbledore might be disappointed in Harry, actually. Even though they are both (probably) shamed for being who they are, they might not understand who she wants to be. It'll also mess up the current prophecy... (Not really sure if to make some of the characters understanding of her situation or not...)

Oh. I was thinking for her to be asexual or bisexual, actually! So, she could be with practically anyone. (Except Dumbledore, Hagrid, Snape, McGonagall, etc. So any of the teachers and Sirius Black are out of the questions.) I was leaning towards Neville, then Hermione... Uhg. She might be with Ginny too... I have no idea. Long answer short: Harry could be with almost anyone.

Oh, errors! Where? *looks around* I try to keep these mistake free, but it's so tough... Oh, you could help?! Maybe we could discuss this over PM. Thank you for the compliment!

My chapters are normally 800 to 1,000 words. Hopefully, this will be a lot longer sometime in the future.

So... many... assignments... and other novels... Then, I'm doing NaNoWriMo!

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Hello, lovelies! Thank you all for reading my stories! However, I have some questions, statements, and requests for you. **

**Tell me what you think of my chapters and characters! That would really help with the whole story overall. I am going to (try) to post every Monday and Friday. Though, my posts may be a day late or a day early. All the chapters will be around this length, unless you guys want me to post once a week. Then these might be a bit longer. **

**Also, who do you guys want Harry to be with? Whether it be a crush, long time relationship, fling... **

**One more thing: please, please check out my profile page and vote! I need that so I continue with this story!**

~Sabrina,


	6. Chapter 6

Warning, this has some swearing and a few mention's of the 't' word.

* * *

><p>Chapter 6.<p>

Harry and Dean grew to be fast friends after that encounter. Because while Harry liked to sew, Dean was teaching her how to crochet. So, the week before Christmas holidays, Harry had made several gifts for her 'cousin.' No one knew of her cousin's gender (or so she thought), so she lied. The mean Dudley Dursley became the kindhearted, sweet Debra.

Dean was able to whip up several bows within two hours thanks to the help of magic. His hands worked as fast as pixie as he used to hook to pull the yarn through to make some multi-coloured socks, and light purple headbands. On December 1st, as Dean and Harry worked, the boy decided to ask a question, "So, who introduced you to sewing? You seem pretty good."

Harry sighed, and looked off to the curtains of her red and gold Gryffindor bed. She had learned a long time ago. "I actually taught myself. I saw my aunt doing it once or twice, and my teachers used to do it while I sat in class. So I just decided to pick it up." Harry shrugged, "I like doing it, but it's hard. Crocheting looks easier."

Dean threw his head back and gave laugh, "Easy? Sewing is easy. Crocheting has so many complex stitches that take hours to get down. Sewing is just stabbing a needle in some cloth multiple times." He finished off the row to the handmade Gryffindor tie, and started to look around for the napsack that was behind. (He almost knocked some of his projects off the bed.) Eventually, his hand found it and he finished around for some something. A few seconds later he pulled out a tangled blob of dark yellow. Dean stretched over, grabbing his wand off the dresser. Then, he lifted up the yarn, and pointed his wand at it. "Micat."

Harry looked at her dress, examining the grey sleeves and black collar. The lace at the end of the sleeves were the work of Dean, a nice dark blue colour. It had taken him ten minutes, maybe twenty to make the beautiful ends for her. Sighing, she held it up next to her cheek, "I bet Debra will love this." Oh, this was the one that she wanted to wear. Who cared about the shimmering dress she had made Hermione? This one was casual, but fancy. Harry could almost wear this anywhere. Muggle or magical events.

...if she had the guts to wear her dresses in public.

"You seem to be very attached to your cousin," Dean commented, as he fixed the wooden hook so it would wrap around the sparkling yarn. "Almost everything you've made is for her. Are you going to make yourself anything?" His hands were nimble as he jabbed the hook into the yarn, and pulled it through, then he repeated that motion twice, and moved on to the next part of the yarn. That wasn't an actuate description of what Dean was doing, but it looked about right. Harry couldn't see all of what he was doing.

"Oh, yeah. She used to protect me from all sorts of bullies at schools." She lied, pulling out some old, crumbled paper and smoothing it out on her bed. What her cousin did was the exact opposite, Dudley was her bully. He had beaten her up at any chance possible and blamed it on her clumsiness. The teachers had believed him. She always had to suffer alone. However, she was used to it- so the bruises didn't bother her anymore.

Harry could remember his punches, fast and firm. Hitting her in the chest, in the head. Then Dudley would grab her by her collar, carry her to the stairs, and push her down. Then she would tumble, her forehead knocking against every step... She had to stand up, and take it. That happened almost weekly. Harry was lucky that she healed quickly. Unfortunately, some scars never went away.

"That's nice." Dean muttered, kicking his legs against the wood of the bed, "I wish I had a sibling, or someone who was my age while growing up. It was terrible being an only child- I didn't even know what magic was. When I went to school for the first time, well, I was a freak." He looked over at Harry, watching as she continued to smooth out the paper.

Harry was about to reply with, 'yeah, I know the feeling.' Then she realized that she was the Boy-Who-Lived, no: Girl-Who-Lived. It was rumoured that she had the best childhood and knew every single magic spell there was. That she fought terrible dragons when she was six, and time traveled and met Merlin when she was nine. Harry James Potter, the unbeatable warrior. The wonderful survivor. Defeater of Voldemort. All the titles had made her dizzy when she had first heard them .

Only last week had Harry gotten a letter in the mail from the Wizarding Prime Minister asking if she would like to receive an Order of Merlin 1st Class for defeating a troll somewhere in Diagon Ally. The problem was, she had never battled a troll in that place; she had knocked out a troll in the girl's bathroom to save Hermione's life. Nothing special. She had just done it to save a friend. Whoever had started the talk about her being a courageous warrior was gravely mistaken. "Oh, wow, that sucks, man." Harry said instead.

Dean yawned, then closed his eyes for a few moments. "Anyways, I think I've made enough ties and bows for today. Maybe... tomorrow I will start making some robes or socks. A lot of people need those at this time of year." Laid out on his bedspread were dozens upon dozens of Gryffindor ties, and some really frilly dark red bows. They all were excellently made, and Harry wondered if Dean would notice if she stole some. "Hey, Har, do you think I'll be able to sell these? It'd be a great way to make a few quick quid- Galleons, no Sickles. Wait, do I mean Knuts? Which is the one that has the... medium value?" Deanie looked confused, as he went through and counted everything he had made.

"I believe," Harry paused and tried to remember what Hagrid had told to her when she first when to Gringots to withdraw some wizarding money. (Apparently, the few pounds she had 'stolen' from her family would not cover for her wand, robes, and books.) "Knuts are the little bronze ones, Sickles are the silvery ones, and Galleons are the one that look like gold." She quickly realized that might not help with the value. "Twenty something Knuts to a Sickle, 17 or so Sickles or a Galleon. So I guess the one of medium value would be Sickles."

"Okay. Then this will be great for making a few Sickles" Deanie snatched up his bag, and threw everything that was crocheted inside of it. Then, he pulled out his wand again and pointed it towards the balls of yarn. "Wingardiam Leviosa," he said, waving it around, he guided it to his beaten up trunk which had a nice red trim around the top, the light brown leather was worn.

"Anyways, I have homework soon. Do you need help at all?" He asked her, while placing the things on his chest. He looked tired, with some bags under his eyes, and his hands were shaking. Perhaps all that magic using, and crocheting had drained Dean.

Harry ran her hand across the the yellowing paper, the crumpling was heaven to her ears. Carefully, she folded up the soft dress and laid it in the packaging. Getting ready to 'send' it to Debra. Her hands shook as well as she looked at the cloth that was in her hands. Soft colours making up a beautiful dress that she would not be able to wear for years to come. "Nah, I got to send this to my cousin, then Hermione and Ron need me to check something out." Harry tried to seem upbeat, as she wrapped the paper around the clothing; however her voice kept on cracking, and her stomach was churning.

Dean seemed to pay to attention to his best friend's apparent grief, and hopped off the bed.

* * *

><p>Harry found Hermione and Ron in an empty Charms classroom. The two were both talking in hushed voices, and there was a worried tone to them. Hermione's hair was in a frizzy mess, her dark brown locks sticking up everywhere. While Ron's hair was actually neat for once. The normal mange of firey orange hair was brushed so he looked like one of those fancy purebloods. The style almost resembling Malfoy. (Harry bet if she commented on the style that he would have messed up his hair, and never would have brushed again.)<p>

Harry quietly walked into the room, making sure that her feet made no noise. Just one wrong step and she could have been given away. One wrong step and she could miss out on a conversation. At times like this, she wished that she had learned a spell of invisibility- or had a cloak of some sorts. Each time she put her foot down, Harry made sure that her toes went first, then she carefully put her heel down. 'Careful... careful...'

"Ron, just, be careful alright. I told you not the anger Snape." They seemed to be working over some sort of cauldron. Purple, sweet smelling fumes filled the air that made Harry want to fall asleep. However, it would have been very inconvenient if she nodded off in the middle of the classroom.

There was a sigh from Ron, "I've said this before, 'Mione. I don't mean to anger him. But you heard what he said about Harry? You heard the... evilness in his voice. I know he's out to get our best friend. It's my duty to protect my best mate's honour."

_...Honour?_ Harry perked up to the conversation, straining her ears a bit more. Her breath caught, and she tried to listen some more. Was she close enough with Ron that he would protect her when she was not there to defend herself?

"You don't have to curse a professor! That's like, breaking fifteen rules. Alright, I might be over reacting, but still! This could be a mark on your academic record forever. You might never get a job anywhere. Snape has so many connections- you wouldn't believe." Hermione seemed very worried, as she hissed over to Ron. From what Harry could see, she was shaking as she tried to throw some things into the pot.

What in the name of bloody hell were her friends making?

Ron seemed almost proud for a moment, with his head held high. However, at the end of his statement he ducked low like he was ashamed or something. "...students have done worse, 'Mione. It's not like a actually hurt him. I just... cursed him so his stupid hooked nose was broken."

...wait, he had punched the freaking potion's professor in the nose just to protect her? Snape. Severus Snape. The most creepy person in the whole school besides Quirrell. Harry saw Ron in a new light.

"Yes, I know others have done worse. But, you're a Weasley. He'll only see you in the light that he sees your brothers. You'll be in their shadows. And not the good ones, like Percy. But the trouble makers, Fred and George."

Harry rubbed her nose, and tried not to close her eyes. However, the stench of the potion was too much- and she felt so... sleepy. Her bag was weighing her down as she tilted to the side. She almost yawned, then caught herself. Harry needed to hear what Snape had said about her.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. I'll be in the shadows of my brothers' yet again. So what?" Ron took a deep breath. "That git said some nasty things. Insulting Harry's looks, and the way he acts. Who cares if my best mate likes to paint his nails sometimes, or grow out his hair and pull it into a pony tail? Who cares if when Harry has finished his potions, he pulls out a book on hair care, and makeup and starts to read through it. Like, we're not in the eighteen hundreds. This is the twentieth century. People should be able to dress and act however they damn well please." There was a sound of finality in his voice. "Besides, Snape's broken more rules than me. He talked about Harry behind his back. Shows bias towards students. He talks ill of the dead. He takes points for no reasons, and awards for the smallest of things. AND, he gives out unnecessary detentions and threatens students if they say anything to other professors. He's a shitty person, and I'm glad I'm serving detention for punching him."

Harry winced. She didn't realize other noticed when she painted her nails, or read those types of books.

Hermione fell quiet for a moment, "Okay, okay. Just, what am I going to tell Harry? 'Oh, yeah. Ron is serving detention because Snape called you the 't' word, so he punched the git in the nose.' I'm not sure if that would go well."

The blood drained from Harry's face... _The 't' word? Snape wouldn't... no, he couldn't have._ She felt sick.

"Who says we tell him anything? Harry was sick that day, so he was in the dorms. We could say that I accidentally ruined some cauldrons- careful, 'Mione, don't add too many lacewings."

"You don't need to tell me what to do, Ronald. I was doing quite fine on my own- anyways, I'm not comfortable lying to him. Like, would not telling him anything be lying?"

Harry decided to cough- just to let her friends know that, in fact, she had heard a majority of the conversation. Hermione whipped around to see what the noise was, her hair flying. Her deep brown eyes were surprised, and she gasped aloud. "HARRY! How long have you been there?"

Ron didn't seem to be phased, he just kept on stirring the cauldron. Letting the sweet smell of pies, flowers, and chocolate overwhelm the air. "Hey, Harry." His voice sounded flat and uninterested.

"Oh," she thought back to the beginning of the conversation, so she could answer 'Mione's "You were warning Ron to be... careful around Snape?" Harry yawned, and felt like collapsing right there. She was surprised that she was able to stay awake. The air smelled so good, and the stone floor looked to comfy.

Hermione's face turned from shocked to relieved. "Oh, good! Do you want to help us. I think we have some information about the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor." She seemed to be judging Harry's sleeping appearance, and the way that the girl was saying to the right as if she was going to fall. "Or- do you need help to go back to the common room? You look awfully tired."

Harry gave another yawn, "I'm not tired, I was actually looking for you guys anyways." Her eyes seemed to flutter as she swayed some more. Goodness, standing there was so exhausting. "What are you two making, anyhow. It seems nice..." Harry moved one foot forward to take a closer look at Ron, who was still stirring the cauldron. Each step she took felt heavier, and heavier.

She was going to fall...

Hermione caught Harry's arm, and tried to drag her away from the cauldron. "Oh no, you don't! You can't have that until after dinner."

Harry still wanted to know what they were making, but her tongue wouldn't move and she felt too sleepy to try and form words.

She felt like she was being dragged to the stone walls of the room, and then like someone let go of her so she fell. Harry wanted to call out, and say 'ouch!' However, she was really too tired to be doing anything.

"Ronald!" A voice hissed, "You put too many frog brains in there!"

"Well, sorry!"

"Look at him, he's falling asleep. You should have relaxed on the ginger-roots, too! Just the fumes are making him tired."

That's all Harry heard before she fell asleep on the classroom floor.

* * *

><p><span>Okay! Sorry I have not been active that much. NaNoWriMo took up most of my time, and then I have school work... and then I have three novels I should be working on. However, this chapter finally seems long enough to post.<span>

Hopefully, I will be able to get to a regular posting schedule. 

~Sabrina


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